Aftermath of Tragedy
by Junkyosha no Tamashi
Summary: Three years after their adventure, new knowledge is brought to light, and the impossible is within reach. The unexpected arises, and divine intervention rewrites the fate of a hero.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, yeah, I can't apologize enough for taking this long. The bright side, I suppose, is that the almost two-year gap gave me plenty of time to think and reflect on the game in the many times I've played it since then; in one sense, I have a much more concrete idea of where I want this story to go. So, with that being said, this sucker's being rewritten. I'm doing that a lot with my recent fics, it seems, but I don't see the harm so long as I keep you guys updated and happy (which is always my intention). The rewrite is also partially because I don't know WHERE the fuck I was going with the whole "rebuilding Neet" thing.**

**Oh, and just as a heads-up, I'm going to be a **_**lot**_** harder on Shana this time around. My previous annoyance for her has, in the aforementioned replays, grown into an intense dislike bordering on outright hatred. I'll try to keep it fair towards her, but bear in mind that that will be quite difficult for me. So just a precaution, really. Since you're in the Dart/Rose pairing section I don't think many of you would have a serious problem with this.**

**XXXXX**

**As always,**

**LITERARY KEY**

If something is in **"_"** it's someone speaking aloud.

If something is in **'_'** and in _**italics**_, it's someone's thoughts.

"**XXXXX"** will be the separator, usually for a flashback or switching to another person's POV during the story.

**XXXXX**

The fine mist escaping the man's lips was matched only by the pale backdrop of early winter snow blanketing the landscape. The Evergreen Forest, ever living up to its namesake, stood in the far distance as a stark pocket of color against the consistent white. Deningrad's Crystal Palace stood glittering in the faint beginnings of the evening moonlight, its luster and beauty unwavering even after the incident with the Divine Dragon.

That had been three years ago.

Now, Dart Feld sat lazily against a fallen tree, resting idly upon the log in the relatively snow-free hollow. The secluded spot, nestled several yards inward along the immediate edge of the mountain, had become a place of respite for him. Even when nothing was in immediate disarray, the crimson-clad swordsman still found himself spending days at a time in the snug alcove.

After all, with the nearest settlement being Deningrad, which was several miles away, there was no one to disturb his peace.

A peace of body and soul which had become more urgently necessary in the past few months than it had before.

Staring blankly at the small fire in front of him, Dart could not help but ponder, yet again, the nightmares of ash and flame which had returned after so long.

_Flames erupting from stock and stone, the crackling and intense heat filling the air; the creaking and splintering of the wooden foundations as the buildings came crashing to pieces upon the few surviving inhabitants. The screams of the people, guttural and of agony unmatched, as death took each in turn._

_The silhouette of Hell itself, blacker than the night sky which barely showed through the towering flames._

_The person it held by the throat, setting them ablaze in a torrent of burning void._

But it was no longer the Black Monster killing a knight.

No, those nightmares had stopped after the Monster's identity had been revealed. Once Rose had come forth with the truth, Dart could not bring himself to dream of vengeance and death.

Not with her.

But now the dream was different. Now the soldier had a slender and curvaceous figure, with long, dark hair that cascaded in a horrid dance as the black flames licked at the dangling form of Rose.

The former Black Monster would then change as well, its dark expanse becoming a brigandine of red as the town of Neet shifted to a warped and spatial dimension. The chilling and unmistakable shrieks of Virage echoed terribly throughout the space as the Monster's head turned…

…and was Dart's own.

'_You let her die.'_

'_You could have saved her, but you didn't even try.'_

'_You went after the other one instead; the selfish one who could not accept you wholly.'_

Indeed, self-deprecation and regret became his bedfellows as Dart continued to emotionally distance himself from Shana since Frahma had been defeated.

'_Shana…'_

The mere thought of the name which had once spurred warmth within him brought only heartache.

**XXXXX**

"I don't understand, Dart," Shana pleaded tearfully from across the room. "Why are you doing this?"

The scarlet warrior sighed heavily.

"Because…because I have to, Shana," he replied after a long moment of uneasy quiet.

"But _why_?" she asked, crossing the room to stand behind him, hands clasped in front of her chest.

He turned to face her, arms crossed.

"Because I can't keep playing this game with you, Shana," he said, voice firm and stern enough to elicit a small gasp from the woman in front of him.

She tried to speak, but the hardness of his gaze froze her completely.

He had never looked at her like that before. Ever. And it frightened her.

"Throwing yourself at me isn't going to make it happen, Shana, I'm sorry."

She felt tears running down her cheeks.

"You…you said you loved me that night, Dart," Shana choked, the fresh pain managing to effectively put a dent in Dart's carefully controlled coldness. "Don't you remember?"

He opened his mouth and shut it again, thinking for several agonizingly long moments before answering.

"I remember what I said, Shana," he offered, stepping forward slightly and raising a hand to wipe her tears away. "And I do love you."

"Then-"

"But not like you love me," he said finally, his expression one of sympathy at knowing the pain to come.

Shana stepped back, her posture one of defeat as she looked up at Dart again.

"But..but you…we…"

Her dainty fingers came to her lips as the memory of a kiss surfaced in her mind.

"I know, Shana."

"Then why?"

Dart sighed defeatedly again.

"Because I…I thought that if I returned all the feelings and advances you made then, I would eventually be able to truly love you as you do me."

He turned away to avoid the look he knew she would have on her pretty face.

"But I was wrong. I still only love you as a baby sister, Shana."

He heard quiet sobs, but no words.

'_She probably already realized that,' _Dart thought, _'but wasn't expecting to actually hear it.'_

He knew better than to tell her who it was he truly had loved.

Knowing he could neither say nothing more to comfort her nor leave her alone after such a dismissal, the former Red-Eye Dragoon sighed a final time as he stood in the now-oppressively small room and waited.

**XXXXX**

_That_ had been one year ago. After relocating shortly afterwards to Deningrad, Dart had heard nothing from Shana. He knew, from that point, that he would most likely only see her at the annual reunions the group had decided to start following the end of their journey. All would come to Bale during the week commemorating Albert's rescue from Hellena.

The week would be as one would expect a long-awaited reunion; feast, dance, lavish accommodations only Albert, being of royalty, could manage, and a great deal of catching up and reminiscing.

Except for one day.

One day was to be spent in remembrance.

And on that day, all of Bale would gather at the courtyard of the castle as the First Knighthood assembled in a period of absolute silence to honor to their fallen Captain, and the party's dear friend, Lavitz Slambert.

The remainder of the day following that ceremony was solemn as each person mourned or remembered those who had been lost during the battles in their own way.

Dart in particular would always be found on the roof of his late friend's home, relishing and aching of memory in Lavitz's "treasure," until the sun had long since settled below the castle vista, and the others came looking for him.

And when the next day came, all was as it was before. Merriment and celebration reigned once more, and the past was left where it rightfully belonged; in the hearts and memories of those who look to the future.

The falling-out between Dart and Shana had happened shortly after the previous year's gathering, and sitting calmly near the flame, he regarded that the current year's reunion was only a few weeks away. He was, naturally, anxious as to how Shana would react to him, and he her, having not seen or heard from her since.

Not bothering to rekindle the slowly-dying fire, Dart rose to his feet, pulling his cloak around him as he prepared to return to his home in Deningrad. He would have to stock up on supplies and leave soon if he was to reach Bale in time to settle before the celebration.

As he descended the low bluff of the mountain's roots, Dart could not shake the feeling that he was being watched, a feeling which persisted until he shut the front door of his house behind him.

**XXXXX**

**Yeah, I like this version better. Makes more sense canonically and all that.**


	2. Chapter 2

**There's a lot of "XXXXX" separators in this chapter. They mostly save me the trouble of writing pointless information and transitions, and also so I don't have to go "Ten minutes later, two hours later" as often, because I really don't like doing either of those in excess. Just an FYI.**

**XXXXX**

**As always,**

**LITERARY KEY**

If something is in **"_"** it's someone speaking aloud.

If something is in **'_'** and in _**italics**_, it's someone's thoughts.

"**XXXXX"** will be the separator, usually for a flashback or switching to another person's POV during the story.

**XXXXX**

_**~Six days later~**_

The soft splashing of ocean waves against the sides of the Queen Fury was the only sound Dart heard as he lay awake in the cabin's solitary bunk. He had never been one to turn in with everyone else; rather, he always found himself wide awake long after all others were asleep. By no means was this a bad thing, as it gave him plenty of time to think and decide about whatever was on his mind.

Which was exactly what he was doing. On his back with his eyes closed, Dart found himself agreeing with something Albert had said years ago.

'_It really does sound like the world is breathing…'_

He pondered, mostly, on what would happen at the reunion; how he and Shana would get along (if they did at all), how Meru would inevitably clear a dance floor with one of her own dances that nobody else could manage, how Kongol would stand in the back and watch quietly like Rose always would…

Dart sighed halfheartedly.

'_Rose…'_

How another year would have gone by without her.

He never said anything when the time for the group to honor her memory came. It was nowhere near as embellished as Lavitz's ceremony, but then, Rose had never been one for center-stage attention.

But he didn't have to say anything. Most of them already knew.

Haschel and Meru, surprisingly, above everyone else, seemed to understand the most. Perhaps Haschel's constant attempts to hook him up with Shana or Rose gave the old master some degree of insight as to Dart's own feelings, and with Meru always managing to spy around any time he had been alone with either of them, it was no small wonder she figured it out.

But he never discovered if Shana had known. He would not tell her, he could not tell her. After what he had put her through, it would hardly be fair to say that he was in love with someone else the entire time. If she _did_ know, she was thankfully quiet about it.

And while the others would reminisce about her mystery and intrigue, about her knowledgeable advice, Dart would inwardly retreat to one of his most precious memories.

When the two of them where alone, for however brief a time, in Lideira.

He remembered the seaside cavern above all else; the feel of her slender hands on his face as he feigned unconsciousness to bask in the moment; the soft tickle of her long, illustrious hair on his brow as she leaned over him.

The softer, and tormentingly brief, brush of her lips on his.

And, perhaps the truest insight into her, how much more relaxed Rose was around him once they regrouped. Even after she had told him of her past, and alternate identity, she was far warmer to everyone.

_Especially_ Dart.

Countless nights Dart could recall silently praying that Pete's accusations had been correct.

"Did she love me?"

The question he had asked himself before was spoken unintentionally before the sandy-haired main could realize it.

The creaking of the ship left him no answer.

He lay in silence for a long time, letting his mind go over the plentiful "what-ifs" he wished Rose was still alive for. His thoughts drifted back to the cave in Lideira, and then settled on the sunset atop the Fury's crow's-nest. Even though, at the time, he had ventured there chiefly to ask Rose about the Black Monster, he could not deny her absolute beauty; the brilliant orange light danced on her hair as it shifted in the salty winds; her surprisingly dainty hands, resting idle on the tempting curve of her hip; her slender alabaster face framed by those same black locks as the light of the setting sun played and reflected in her piercing violet eyes.

'_Dear God, those eyes,'_ Dart silently praised, unable to forget the enchantment of Rose's unfathomably-deep eyes, which seemed always to penetrate everything and nothing at the same time. Those eyes which could freeze one's blood with no more than a glance, yet also contain the sadness and anguish of endlessly-endured aeons of experience and regret, immersed painfully just below their frigid surface.

Eyes which he longed to look upon him with warmth and passion.

Sighing, Dart raised up, throwing the blanket off his body. He swung his legs over the side of the small bunk and stood, eyeing his armor and secondary underclothes resting in the corner.

'_If I'm going to think about her,' _he thought, beginning to dress himself in only the essentials, _'then I might as well do it in a place she liked.'_

**XXXXX**

The Fury was quiet as he carefully traversed her dark corridors. The sighs and mutters of her sleeping crewmen filled the wooden halls as Dart made his way up the stairs.

Upon reaching the steering chamber, the young warrior was not surprised to find Commodore Puler was still up and in his usual position at the helm. The older seaman did not seem to notice Dart, who said nothing as he headed towards the mast ladder.

No sooner had his hand touched a run, Puler spoke.

"I know what's troubling you, son," he said, not moving from that spot across the railing.

Dart removed his hand from the ladder, turning expectantly to hear the ship's captain out.

The older man sighed contentedly.

"And I know what it's like, losing the one you love. I feel it every time I dock and leave the sea."

Dart opened his mouth to rebut the difference between a body of water and a person, but Puler cut him off, seeming to expect the response.

"I know it isn't _quite_ the same as losing a person, but to me the feeling has no definitive preference. The sea is my love, Dart. I tell her all my secrets and worries and she replies only with the sounds of her waves."

He turned to face Dart, now genuinely intrigued by the man's reasoning.

"That way, I don't need to worry about what to say back or what the sea might think of me. She listens, but never directly responds, leaving the thinking and deciding to me without the added pressure. Do you remember the time I said you'd make a good sea-farer?"

Dart nodded, knowing where Puler was going.

"It's just like it was then," the old captain said, smiling. "The sea is the best place for you to think about yourself, your life, and your loved ones, without all the hustle and bustle you find everywhere else. Do you understand now, what I meant then?"

Dart nodded again, acknowledging the notion he had taken for granted those three years ago.

"Yes."

The Commodore nodded himself, clearly pleased with Dart's answer.

"Good. Then get on back to it."

The red warrior smiled, turning and ascending the ladder. The slap of his hands on the rungs echoed calmly throughout the small room as Puler turned to face the helm once again.

'_You'll find your peace soon, boy. I'm sure of it.'_

**XXXXX**

The saltiness of the ocean air was no different than it was then, albeit colder due to the nighttime temperatures.

Dart leaned against the ledge of the crow's nest, watching the moonlight play on the shifting waves as his sandy hair billowed in the chill sting of the wind.

'_I see why she would always come up here at night,'_ he thought wistfully, letting his heart recall simple gestures, momentary glances, and the rare occasions of contact which meant everything and nothing at all.

Before he knew it, it was dawn.

**XXXXX**

With no time to stay in Fueno, beyond a short rest at the inn and a restock on supplies, Dart had almost immediately departed for Fletz.

A small surge of remembered fury burned in his chest as he walked beneath the natural stone bridge near the entrance of the canyon. This had been, after all, where the Red-Eye Dragoon Spirit had been stolen from him. Even though he had crossed under this landmark multiple times since, the anger still arose each time at the memory.

But it was no more than a memory, and there was no sense in dwelling on anger directed at a dead man.

Fletz was ahead, and further still was Bale. Dart had more important things to concern himself with than petty anger.

Seeing the landscape glow a purple-orange, Dart felt the time to set up camp was imminent. Climbing to a small cave a few dozen feet above the ground, he emptied the small supply of firewood he had brought specifically for this purpose. Finding good firewood in a desert canyon, even though what wood there was would be dry enough, was not the easiest task in the world to accomplish. It was easier to prepare in advance than expend energy on a potentially wasted effort.

As the small fire sparked to life, Dart felt the unease of being targeted. A quick scan of his environment showed that no monsters were present, nor were there any other people. Yet Dart knew the feeling; it was the same feeling he had during his return journey to Deningrad a week prior. Whatever or whoever had been watching him then was watching him now.

Which meant that the entity had followed him.

Across Ilisa Bay, no less.

Whatever it was, it was obviously smart enough to hitch a ride on the Queen Fury when he himself had boarded it.

Dart thought about drawing his sword and shouting an invitation for the unknown spectator to make themselves known, but quickly dismissed it. If this person, if it even _was_ a person, had gone on observing and following him for a week with the intent to harm him, they would have done so by now.

'_No, whatever this thing is, it has something else in mind,'_ he inwardly analyzed, feigning ignorance to the individual as he took out a meal ration and began roasting the meat over the fire.

Surely it _was_ an individual. A group of any size would be more easy to discern; footprints, leftover scraps of any supplies used, remnants of campsites, and environmental disturbance would have all been in greater capacity and frequency had a group been following him. With none of those being seen by even Dart's sharp eye, the only rational explanation was that it was a single entity.

'_But to leave absolutely no trace of existence beyond the feeling of presence…'_

"Enough," he said suddenly, more likely to himself than the intruder.

'_It's not going to go away and it's not going to come any closer.'_

He sighed, bringing his attention to his rumbling stomach as he eyed the sizzling meat on its rackshack spit.

"Worrying and overthinking won't make a difference," he told himself, reaching for a small bread loaf.

**XXXXX**

With the marriage of Emille to Albert two years before, the economic conditions of both Bale and Fletz, as well as their respective countries, had risen substantially. The greatest notice of this was apparent in the capital cities in question; both had expanded considerably in population, territory, and wealth. The Astrology City, the faith of which remained firm even after the Moon That Never Sets had been stripped of its namesake, had nearly doubled in size in the short period since the physical and political union. Nevertheless, the city's center was the same as it had been three years hence.

As Dart weaved through the more densely-crowded streets, he still felt eyes on his back as he had in the canyon. The watcher had not followed him into Deningrad before, so for them to have continued on into the city and _still_ manage to keep Dart in sight could only mean one thing.

Whatever their motive, they would make their move there.

With that being the realized case, Dart knew the safest course of action would be to remain in Fletz until that had happened. Where, when, or how that would occur, he did not know.

**XXXXX**

Once night had fallen, after a long visit with Fester and the royal family, Dart felt the presence near him more strongly than he ever had. Knowing the moment was near, he resolved to go to a place where the interaction could transpire with as little public involvement as possible.

The planetarium.

One of the few buildings in the otherwise unchanged city hub, the church and planetarium building had been expanded upon to include three more planetarium rooms, improved operating mechanics for all of the performance systems, and another two floors to accommodate the increased staff and materials. The formerly broken planetarium had also finally been repaired, though with it still remaining in the farthest part of the building, it remained the least used.

So Dart went for that one.

Thankfully, nobody had been using it at the time, so he instructed the operator to let the performance run, but not to let any of the "typical" civilians enter until he had left. Given the Dragoons' social status following the defeat of Frahma, the usher made no attempts to deny Dart the request. Even so, the crimson-clad man still paid the workman out of courtesy.

Sitting against the far wall and facing the door, Dart closed his eyes and waited in the dark room for his pursuer.

It did not take long.

It had only been roughly twenty minutes since he had entered, which Dart had made a point to count out, when the unmistakable sound of armored footsteps thudded on the wooden floorboards.

With the room being nearly pitch-dark aside from the spinning lights above, he did not bother opening his eyes. He would barely been able to identify the person, regardless of his above-average sensory abilities.

A few minutes of silence passed after they had stopped in front of him. He heard no sound other than their soft breathing.

He was expecting them to address him, to lunge at him, or to hear the sound of whirring metal as a weapon was drawn.

What he was _not_ expecting, however, was for the person to move and sit down next to him.

He noticed that their breathing had become heavier once they had sat down.

A scent not unlike lilacs filled the area, and he became more keenly aware of the 'voice' the individual's breathing had to it.

The person was a woman.

His eyes snapped open, seeing only the white dots dancing around the domed ceiling above them.

'_It can't be…Shana?!'_

His first thought was not an unreasonable one. Given the nature of their breakup, it would not be a far cry for Shana to make the effort to follow him to have the talk that was so necessary for them to have.

However, for Shana to make such a trip alone, follow and track Dart like a predatory wolf, _and_ be able to avoid his visual detection was _extremely_ improbable.

But there could be no other explanation, unless Meru or Miranda had suddenly become stealthy and developed a liking for him.

This confusion spurred him to speak first.

"Who are you?"

More silence. Such humility was not something he had anticipated from the person who had managed to elude him so well and track him like a hunter. The sounds of faint movement reached his ears.

'_She's fidgeting. What the hell's going on?'_

"Who are you?" Dart asked again, pressing more firmly than the first time.

"It…it's me, Dart," she said, her voice as nervous as he had ever heard in someone.

His eyes widened to saucers.

'_Im…impossible!'_

Breathing became difficult as the achingly-soft velvet cascaded throughout his pounding heart as the woman's unforgettable voice rang in his mind.

Trembling furiously, his lips formed a single word.

"R-Rose?"

No reply was heard.

This was torture. It couldn't be her, it _couldn't_ be.

He heard more movement.

Slender arms wrapped around his shoulders as familiar tresses moved against his neck, her face buried into his armored chest as she suddenly embraced him.

His arms instinctively shot up, wrapping around her and pulling her to him tightly, even possessively.

"I'm so sorry, Dart," she whispered, her voice tearful and drowning in sorrow and regret.

Rose didn't hug people. It was never even _thought_ of outside of Dart's unspoken yearnings and deepest fantasies. And someone who had died _definitely_ didn't hug people.

Yet there she was, half-thrown across his torso in an obviously passionate embrace. It could be nobody _but_ her. Her namesake-ironic, yet tantalizing, scent of lilacs was all around him, a scent which he committed almost _religiously_ to memory; his gloved hands felt familiar curves and indentations of the trademark leather bodice that could belong to nobody _but_ Rose.

"How?" Dart asked finally, after uncounted minutes passed in the warm yet somewhat awkward and uncomfortable embrace. The initial shock had faded, and both had regained some semblance of composure.

Her head shifted upwards, her breath spilling in shallow bursts over his face.

"It's too…complicated to explain now," she replied, her voice becoming urgent.

Dart was in no mood to offer resistance. Her sultry voice was filling the air, making him too heady to complain.

"There's something more important," she said softly, "I need to ask you first."

She almost sounded…embarrassed?

"_I don't care what the question is,' _he thought drunkenly, _'just as long as I can hear her voice.'_

"Dart, do you-" she hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the question.

Whatever was bothering her, he figured amidst his intoxicated mental haze, it was enough to delay her reason for somehow coming back to life and act more out-of-character than he had ever seen.

'_Wait…'_ his mind began as its lunacy faded, wandering to forgotten desires as vague pieces began to form, _'…she can't mean…'_

"Do you love me?" she finished, her tone giving the very obvious impression that a heavy blush was on her face.

His stupor at her return vanished instantly as his head jerked down to look at her.

With his eyes having adjusted to the darkness, he could just faintly see that stunningly beautiful face staring up at him, with a rosy tint spreading across it.

His right arm rose from its vicelike grip on her shoulder and shifted gears completely as Dart placed his hand gently against her face.

Her own hand came up to join it, squeezing softly as a slight smile came to her lips.

'_After so long…'_

Dart needed no words to answer her.

'…_after so much…'_

He knew the answer. He suspected she did, too.

'…_this is really happening…'_

He saw the slightest parting of her lips.

'…_the wait was worth it.'_

Dart shot forward, claiming those lips with his own hungrily, releasing all the angst and restrained passion into a single feverish kiss which would answer her question better than a "yes" or "no" ever could. Rose released a small moan the moment their lips met, but made no attempt to stop him. Her arms tightened around his broad shoulders again as Dart's own hand moved to run its fingers through her lovely hair. The kiss, _much_ to Dart's joy, was returned wholeheartedly by Rose as the pair tried to pull each other as closely as was physically possible.

It was not until the need to breathe arose that they regrettably broke apart.

Heavy pants filled the quiet room as glittering violet met shining blue.

A comfortable silence passed for a long while, both content to simply take the sight of the other in after so long, and enjoy the feel of their intertwined arms.

"Dart," Rose said suddenly, causing him to blink in surprise at the break in silence. Her composure seemed to have returned, her words strong even though her voice and body trembled in unison.

"You make me feel something I haven't felt in eleven thousand years."

'_Oh, Soa, yes. Please, say it.'_

"I'm…scared of what's to come, but, Dart…"

She paused, much to his chagrin, brushing his bangs from his eyes.

"I…I love you."

Dart smiled, planting another, though feather-light, kiss on her lips.

"I love you too, Rose."

**XXXXX**

**Probably one of the longest chapters I've written for ANY fic. I'm sure I could have gotten away with splitting this into two chapters at some point, but I figured a continuous, 3000-word chapter is the least you all deserve for having to wait so long for an update.**

**See you next chapter, guys.**


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